


Kitty Like Cushions and Puppy Kettles.

by halelujah



Series: Marvel Fics. [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Inanimate Objects, M/M, just an AU, magical!Tony, they move because Tony has the flu, witch!Pepper, witch!Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halelujah/pseuds/halelujah
Summary: Prompt:"i get a cold and when im sick i really can’t be around non-magic people but u show up at my door and i try to shoo u away but u come in and see my apartment but..." with sick!Tony and non magical!Bucky?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just posting my fics from Tumblr on AO3 to keep them all in one place.

The last thing Tony ever wants to admit to anyone is, he’s sick. Well, actually that’s a lie. Admitting he’s wrong to anyone, is the big boy, but being sick is way up there. He’d honestly rather chew on glass then swallow. But when he blows his nose for the third time and accidentally causes everything in the immediate area, to float up to the ceiling, he finally decides to throw in the towel.

Well, after capturing it levitate twenty inches above his head, that is.

~

“I told you,” Pepper starts, amusement playing in her eyes as she lowers all the furniture back down onto the floor. She doesn’t seem to mind that the entire apartment is dark, save for strategically placed candles around the room.

He’d given up trying to fix the electrical fixtures, it was a moot point since he’d sneeze two minutes later and send himself and the room back into darkness. He’s just glad that this didn’t stretch out to the other tenants of the building.

“I know, I know,” Tony slurs, tightening his blanket burrito around him. “I shouldn’t have pushed my magic too far, I’m always wrong, you’re always right. Now _please_ , leave me alone to die in peace!”

Instead of getting offended like anyone else would have, Pepper just snorts, walks over to where he’s set up camp on the couch and sits beside him.

(The only reason the couch hadn’t floated after he blew his nose, being he had nearly thrown up being rocked back and forth the first time, like he was riding an imaginary wave. So he had anchored the couch down by tying two loops around two legs of the couch and then once around his closed door’s handle.)

“You must be sick because _that was way too easy_. Usually it takes me two hours to get the magical words out of you, but I’ve got to endure half-assed excuses as to why it was _someone else’s_ fault and not yours.” She says, reaching out a hand to press against his forehead.

A frown takes over her smug smirk, her eyebrows furrowing. Tony gathers he must be burning up, despite the fact he’s feeling so cold. Seconds later, the pounding of his temples ease into nothingness and he groans his thanks.

“Where’s Mr. Fluffy? I want to snuggle with him.” He mumbles, leaning more into her touch. Because apparently Pepper likes being every stereotypical trope of a witch, and owns a midnight black cat with beautiful jade green eyes.

“You _know_ Edwin hates you calling him that,” Pepper says, though a purring cat does materialise on his lap, moments later, proves otherwise.

Tony buries his blocked nose into Edwin’s fur and cuddles him close, leaning listlessly into Pepper’s side as sleep takes over.

~

It takes several moments for Tony to realise the pounding isn’t in his head, but instead someone knocking gently on his front door. Blearily stumbling towards it, all the while keeping his blanket wrapped around him, he opens it and finds his neighbor Bucky standing there with a pot. He feels a moment of pure panic rush through him and takes a cautious glance over his shoulder. 

He sighs in relief when nothing floats by or his kettle doesn’t rush passed his legs and into the world, to scare the locals. That had been something out of a nightmare, hearing something shuffle around in the kitchen late one night, only to see his kettle, sans power, scuttle at his ankles. He _may_ have screamed loudly, but no one thankfully was around to hear it.

“Hey Tony,” Bucky greets, smiling, literally beaming at him.

He can’t take this. He’s physically and mentally not prepared for this. If he’s being honest, he hasn’t been prepared ever since he literally tripped when stepping out of his front door, nine months ago and seeing Bucky for the first time. Granted, it was because Tony hadn’t spotted the box sitting near his door, but the results are the same; he fell face first.

Two arms, one of flesh and the other of some robotic metal, had hoisted Tony to his feet, apologies rushed in his ears as he got lost into a pair of dark eyes, stubble and a loose bun of hair.

“Hey Buck,” he mumbles, feeling weak enough that he has to lean against the doorframe.

“Oh, sorry,” the man says, eyes wide. “Is it okay if I can come in, so you’re not on your feet?”

“Yeah, come on in.” Tony leaves the front door open, sure in the fact that Bucky will close it behind him. He’s falling into the nest of pillows and blankets on the couch, watching Bucky as he hauls the massive crock pot onto the divider, between the kitchen and living room.

“I spoke to Pepper when she left,” he starts, shuffling on his feet, almost shyly. “Said you were sick, so I made my mum’s chicken soup. Always make it for Stevie when he’s feeling under the weather.”

“How is he?” Tony asks, smiling at the mention of the blonde’s name. It had been a confusing two weeks for him, trying to find out if both men were an item. The last thing Tony ever wanted to do, was pine after a taken man. That was a whole world of hurt waiting to happen.

“Still a punk.” Bucky offers up about his best friend, grinning. Clearing his throat, he pats on the crock pot lid. “Anyway, thought you might appreciate something homemade and easy on the stomach.”

“I do.” He says, blurts out really. Tony knows there’s moons in his eyes. He can feel it but it doesn’t stop the happy smile that takes over his features.

In fact, he’s so happy, that he doesn’t realise he’s blowing his nose until the very last second. He sees the lamp shake slightly beside Bucky before slowly rising an inch off the floorboards.

Yelping, Tony stands up and with wide eyes, says, “I think you need to leave!”

Hurt flashes briefly over Bucky’s face before it’s pushed behind a fake smile. “Ah, okay, sure.”

“No! Not – not that I don’t _appreciate_ what you’ve done Buck,” he rushes to explain, panic beginning to set in as the lamp moves further up into the air. “It’s just. I’m like five seconds away from throwing up – and you don’t. You don’t need to hear or see that.”

“ _Oh_ , I thought it was because you–” he starts before nodding in understanding. Hurt still flickers behind his eyes.

Tony would love to revisit that cut off sentence but as he ushers Bucky to his door and closes it, everything explodes into movement.

~

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m a nurse Tony, some upchuck isn’t going to freak me out.”

Something is currently head butting his calves, scrabbling to get free or to Bucky, and he feels like he’s somehow being punished. It’s come to Tony’s embarrassed attention, that his usually inanimate things wanted to curl up on the man’s thighs like some lapdog, something Tony sorely wanted to do himself.

He’s only saved from a horrifying fate by nodding adamantly. “Yes. I’m sure. I know it’s your job to deal with that kind of stuff but, I can’t subject you to that. Especially three feet from your own home.”

A soft smile plays on Bucky’s face before he nods. “Just keep your fluids up, okay? If you need anything, just let me know.”

A piece of paper is being pressed into his palm before Bucky pushes his forearm off the doorjamb he’d been leaning against, - Tony had to do some breathing exercises to stop himself from flinging his sickly body onto the man, because _hot damn_ \- and then disappears behind his own door.

At further inspection, the piece of paper ends up being the best thing Tony has received that week, - second best, that chicken soup _was_ fantastic - it’s a number.

 _Bucky’s_ number.

Tony would like to admit he doesn’t do a happy, wriggle dance, but he does.

He at least does it behind his closed front door and then has to lean against it, when he’s short of breathe.

~

Bucky visits one more time as Tony recovers from pushing himself magically. It’s just hit the peak where Tony now has his toaster and kettle tearing around like bumbling puppies and one of his throw cushions hissing whenever Bucky leaves his apartment.

Tony has no idea how his life has become like this. But it definitely is interesting.

Interesting because Bucky is petting said throw cushion like it’s a cat and it’s… _purring_?

“I don’t – um, know how to explain this?” Tony says, eyes wide.

He takes a moment to glare at the damn cushion because he was almost scot-free. And now he’s faced with looking like a mad man and Pepper’s wrath for letting the secret out.

He’s totally surprised when all he gets is a loud snort that’s followed with belly shaking laughter.

“Is this why you didn’t want me in your apartment?” Bucky asks, chuckling. “You do realise this is an apartment block for people of the supernatural, right?”

“ _Excuse me_?”

The cushion has moved onto his lap, looking all kinds of contentment, as a rough palm runs down the ruffled spine of its side. The toaster and kettle are nestled between Bucky’s ankles and seriously, what is his life?

“Stevie’s a healer and I’m a non magical. Stevie didn’t want to move in here without me, because we’re codependent like that.” Bucky explains, patting the seat beside him. “Struck up a deal with Coulson to let me stay."

Tony silently obeys and sits next to him. “So, you knew?”

“Not that you were a witch, but that you had abilities, yes.”

“Well, that would’ve made things less awkward if I knew,” Tony tells him, a blush beginning to bloom in his cheeks. “I wouldn’t have ‘thrown up’ so much.”

Another laugh echoes in his ears as an arm wraps around his shoulders. He’s set into the curve of Bucky’s side before a pair of lips are pressed behind his ear. “You’re adorable.”

Tony grins down at the cushion burying itself between them and thinks, maybe admitting he’s sick once in a while, isn’t so bad after all. 


End file.
